The fire in our eyes
by Thequietfox
Summary: When Sherlock jumps off a building and dies, John has no one. Until he meets Mary
1. chapter 1

John Wattson was sad.

Less sad then he had been the last weeks but still. He was sad.

He still couldn't believe that it had all just been a trick, I mean HOW COULD HE?! It had been two weeks since Sherlock had jumped. All officers were still busy with "solving how he did it"

"did what?" John would ask, on which the officers mostly say "how he survived without us noticing!"

At that point John just wanted to scream "SHERLOCK. IS. DEAD." but he couldn't, he can't. Because Sherlock was his best friend.

He swallowed in pain, while he walked along on the path he had walked too much these days. The path to the bar, to drink away his pain.

He had no one, so no one could judge.

When he finally arrived at the bar (finally being relative), he sat down at his now nearly own chair. Next to him say a girl. A girl with short blond hair and a warming smile. Wait, why did she smile at him? "H... hello?" He tried "do I know you?"

"Oh John" the anonymous lady replied, who apparently also knew his name. "don't you remember? I knew you were too drunk last night."

John was rather confused. "uhm..." then suddenly it all came back to him, everything that happened last night. It wasn't much though, he met this girl named Mary and they danced, he also remembered something that had to do with elbows. He didn't know what that was all about.

"MARY! I am SO sorry!" He quickly said. After realising that he had been thinking for quite a while now.

"Yup, that's me! I also was a bit drunk later on, don't worry." She had that smile on het again. It was a nice smile, John felt like he had to smile too.

He didn't know exactly though, because she basically just insulted him. But as long as her sentences ended with that smile he was fine with her insulting him.

"Y... you have a really nice smile you know?" All kinds of thoughts raced through his mind; why did I say that? Should I smile now? Does she even like compliments? What was that with the elbows?

"Well thanks John!" John snapped back from his thoughts when Mary reacted with a sense of surprise in her voice, boy did he like her.

Johns thoughts went back to last nights. Partly because he wanted to find out more about the elbow thing. Sherlock would have gone to his mind palace, if that was even real.

UGH he could only find fague memories! Now he wished he didn't drink so much last night.

He signed the bartender for a drink: "the usual?" He asked, on which John answered, for the first time in two weeks: I think I'll have something less strong." Was he done grieving? Not yet, but Mary was definitely helped.

Then he woke up, immediately panicked. Had it all just been a dream? He wanted to go back! He wanted to see Mary!


	2. Dry tears

John was confused, it was now a week later and he has had this weird dream every single night. What could it mean?

He was just contemplating looking up a dream dictionary when Mrs Hudson knocked.

Well, at least he thought it was Mrs Hudson, because he could hear a metallic tick with the knocks, her wedding ring. Also there was a slow pause between each knock, which represented someone old, no offense to Mrs Hudson.

A few seconds later his guess was confirmed by a soft voice calling. "John? Can I come in?" The voice of Mrs Hudson.

Oh god he was turning into Sherlock.

Then he realised he didn't answer yet. "Yeah, yeah, sure come in." John said, a little distracted.

Mrs Hudson entered. "Are you really sure you don't want a new therapist? At least five have put their card in the mailbox!"

"Yeah okay, sure, I'll look into it." John said, coming over even more distracted, more then he had intended. Almost uninterested.

He didn't need a new one, he was nearly over Sher... suddenly a wave of sorrow washed over him, he missed him so much. "Keep it together John." he said to himself, holding back the tears. He needed a drink.

He hadn't been to the bar for a week now, mainly because he was scared not to see Mary sitting there like she always was in this dreams. But now, he needed something strong, something alcoholic.

After he wiped away the tear that had slipped out of his eye unintentionally, he entered the bar.

He was glad to see that his usual barstool was still free.

When he sat down and had ordered a bourbon from the bartender, he suddenly realised something, there was a short haired blond girl sitting next to him!

She couldn't be, she can't be! When he glanced over to his right, he saw the same pretty face he had seen so many times. In his dreams. This couldn't be happening!

When he finally got used to the fact that his imaginary girlfriend was sitting next to him, he gathered all the courage that was inside him, took a big breath and said, "Hi."

Was that all he could say?! Hi?! After the girl he knew as Mary also said hi, he realised he was staring again.

"JOHN! M.. my name, John." He quickly said. "You're Mary, right?"

"Uhm, yeah. How did you know that?" Oh yeah, right, he'd imagined her, he'd never actually met her. He had forgotten he wasn't supposed to know her name. "Uhh, I don't know, you just look like a Mary."

"Ohkay... So, what brings you here?" Mary asked. John swallowed, he had no idea how he could formulate this better. "My best friend died."

 _That's not what he had meant to say! He'd meant to say:_ "Oh, a friend of mine passed away." **Then he said this! _What was wrong with him?!_** He took a deep breath, take it easy John, he said to himself, think about your heart. His thought made him chuckle.

Mary looked shocked. "Oh I am so sorry, my condolences, are you all right?" She asked, seemingly sorry for asking. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine!" Then he suddenly realised that he hadn't thought of Sherlock since he had seen Mary. He still couldn't believe that she was actually here!

Wait, what if this was all just a dream all over again? Then this would all be false hope! He thought back to when he read something that said that when you look down in a dream that the floor disappeared. And above the sky would turn dark.

He looked to the ground, nothing happened, just a normal floor. Maybe the sky? Nope still just a sky. Maybe the floor worked now? No. Sky? No.

He sat like this for at least two minutes straight. Just looking up, then down, and up, and down. Maybe if he pinched himself? Nope, didn't work. Maybe if he slapped Mary? Wait, _no hand!_ ** _It is yourself!_ Hit me! **

He accidentally hit Mary. Oops.

"Was that needed?" Mary said with a playful tone in her voice. "I am SO sorry!" John was really confused, was his dream becoming reality? Maybe this was still a dream. Just a really convicing one. Yeah that must be it. But... What if this was the reality? What if Sherlock was a dream?!

"John? Hey John!" He was pulled back from his thoughts by Mary's voice, and her hand waving in front of his face. Which she pulled back after John shook confused with his head.

S... sorry, I zoned out there for a bit!" He said with a nervous chuckle. He was honestly surprised she hadn't ran away yet.

The bartender came with John's drink, he wanted to buy something for Mary but she still had half a cocktail in front of her, which she sipped every now and then.

John drank his bourbon in one gulp. Not a good idea, but right now it looked like the best idea ever. That's why he ordered another drink. "What do you think of elbows?"

That's the last he remembered from last night. At first he thought it was a dream again. But then he noticed the intense banging in his head. A horrible hangover. WAIT, he looked next to him and let out a relieved sigh. He was alone. The quick movement triggered his headache though.

"Oww" he groaned while grabbing his head. A few second later he heard Mrs Hudson knocking.

"Go away, or I swear I will hit you." That sounded more aggressive then he had intended. Not to mention raising his voice like that made his throat burn.

He heard Mrs Hudson gasp. "I have a glass of water for you here on the counter!" Then she quickly walked off the stairs. "Thanks Mrs Hudson!" He called, holding his head again. He shouldn't yell. Then he went back to sleep. At least it was weekend.

 **Oh hi there, fellow Sherlock fan! So I wanted to have a little chat. How was your day?**

 **Hmm that's nice. Anywho, this is my first fanfiction so I would really like if you could just let me know what you think okay? Thanks!**


	3. The next meeting

John woke up, stressed. He couldn't recall why he was stressed, so he assumed he'd just had a nightmare. It was probably about Mary.

Oh right, she was actually real!

Then all the memories of last night came flushing back, that he'd met with her, knew her name when he wasn't supposed to, that he slapped her, and that there was something with elbows... Dang why does he keep forgetting what happened with the elbows?!

Mrs Hudson then entered the room, John hasn't noticed her knocking.

"Hello Mrs Hudson!" He said, it looked like it had scared Mrs Hudson though, because she gasped and looked to the bed, then she said: "Oh! John! Sorry, I didn't expect you to be awake! You've been sleeping for hours!"

"I'm sorry Mrs Hudson, I didn't mean to scare you. What were you doing in my room anyway?" John then said, sounding- for the first time since... Sherlock- happy. "Oh, I was just cleaning the counters and then I stumbled across the glass of water I had set there for you. I thought it would be nicer for you too have it here." Mrs Hudson said, while putting the aforementioned glass of water down on his nightstand.

Before Mrs Hudson went trough the door again, John stopped her. "Mrs hudson?"

"Yes, John?"

"What time is it exactly?"

"Uhm..." She looked at her watch. "6 PM." She answered.

"That's amazing!" He whisper-screamed, that was right around the time he normally went to the bar! He wouldn't drink this time, though.

John raced down the stairs with two steps at a time, murmering to himself: " _i am gonna see Mary! I am gonna see Mary!"_ Oh he was so exited to see her again!

He quickly made his way to the bar, maybe a bit too exited but still, he would see Mary again! Okay he was maybe over exaggerating this a bit but whatever.

John arrived at the bar, and stood in front of the door, straightened his tie, fixed his hair and then, he entered. His eyes shot to Mary sitting at her standard bar stool. He sat down next to her, and said a quick "hello again!" like he didn't plan to say this and this was completely out of the blue.

"Oh hi! John right?" Mary said, while putting a strand of hair behind her ear.

John took a minute to enjoy her voice, she had a beautiful voice, like the voice of an angel. He couldn't deny it anymore, he was in love.

"Yeah, Mary... right? Listen, I don't want you to feel like we are moving too fast but I feel some sort of... connection, between us two. Do you want to come to my house later on?"

John asked, instantly regretting every life choice he made.

After that, Mary started. "Uhm well..."

There you have it, john thought, she is going to say no.

"I don't know..."

That's women's language for no.

"You know what? F*ck it, sure."


	4. The case

"You clean the cupboards then I'll do the table."

John said with a panicked voice, obviously stressed. Why wouldn't he be? He was meeting up with Mary after all!

"Mrs Hudson you need to be quicker! We have only done the living room yet and Mary is coming in..." he looked at his watch. "Two hours!"

"John, aren't you over exaggerating a bit? It's just a girl. You have had ten!" Mrs Hudson said, while putting all the used cups in the sink to wash.

"This is different Mrs Hudson! This is... Mary."

John said, lovingly sighing at the thought of her.

They were cleaning the kitchen together, which Sherlock didn't exactly clean before... you know... This wasn't easy for John nor for Mrs Hudson. At least they didn't have to do the bedroom yet.

John swallowed, holding back the wave of sorrow. He still had them sometimes but he had learned to deal with them and now even felt them coming. He couldn't deal with this now. He needed to clean.

At least it wasn't that much. He just needed to put some beakers away and then he was done with the table. "Okay, done!"

"I'm also nearly done.." Mrs Hudson said, she then accidentally dropped the last of the dirty cups, then did a bit of thinking and said with a chuckle. "Now I am done."

John immediately walked over to the side of the room. In a corner stood an old mop and a broom. John grabbed the broom and started to clean the mess Mrs Hudson made.

She hesitated for a moment and then asked:

"Well then, shall I make some tea downstairs?"

"Yes, please!"

After he had finished cleaning up the remains of the blue cup, Johns eyes then went to the other side of the room, the fridge. _The fridge._ **The fridge!**

 _They had forgotten to clean the fridge!_

Okay, shouldn't be that difficult. John walked to the door and without hesitation he pulled it open.

" _Aw, Sherlock!"_ John cried when he saw a bowl of... a bowl of... _what even was it?_

Okay, _those are elbows._ He decided. Why does... _did_ Sherlock always have something human in the fridge?

 _And why had John been haunted by mysterious elbows the last few weeks?!_

Suddenly, Mrs Hudson came rushing through the door. "Uhm John?" she managed to say, shaking. "Y... you have a client."

"A client? But Sherlock... isn't here to solve the case!"

"He insists on speaking with John Watson."

John was confused, yet flattered. Someone noticed him? He took a quick look at his watch. Still one hour left.

"Well, bring him up then" John said, with a bit of pride in his voice. There was a client, waiting for HIM!

He set the chair in its place. Oh, he had missed this.

He was a little anxious though. He hadn't been able to solve any case up till now, and he was afraid that that wouldn't change anytime soon.

He sat down in his chair and waited for the footsteps on the stairs. He didn't have to wait long, for he heard them almost instantly. He had time to quickly straighten the pen, lying on the little table next to him and then the client entered.

His entrance was not the normal, client-y entrance. Most people coming to sit in that chair were afraid, scared even. This mystery man was not. He came in, full of self-confidence. "Are you John Watson?"

"Yes I am," John said, followed by a bowing gesture, in a hopeless attempt to brighten up the mood. He was still figuring out how this apparantly Ukrainian man -judging by his accent- needed him.

"I heard you are a good detective. I have a case for you," the Ukrainian man said while sitting down in the chair.

"Oh I am sorry, I think you are looking for Sherlock." The disappointment was dripping off John's face.

"Well then, where is this Sherlock?"

"I'm afraid he past away last month." John replied, his eyes shooting to Sherlock's chair.

"Okay, then _you_ have to solve my case." The Ukrainian guy said, seemingly getting annoyed.

"I am sorry mister, I can't solve anything! I'm going to have to ask you to go."

 _I'm going to have to ask you to go,_ Sherlock was normally the person saying that, only in other contexts.

"You are going to regret this, Watson. You are going to wish you had taken my case!" Then the guy just walked out of the door, this was not what John had expected.


End file.
